


Rainy at Best

by sailingonstardust



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Barduil - Freeform, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Seattle, artist thranduil, coffee shop owner bard, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailingonstardust/pseuds/sailingonstardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard has spent the past five years growing his coffee shop business in the heart of Seattle. His family is happy and he is successful, yet he can't help but feel incomplete. If that feeling disappears every time he talks to Thranduil Greenleaf, he's not going to admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

If ever there was a man perfect for the city of Seattle, it was Bard. Rugged yet refined, hardworking, well-dressed, and owner of a coffee shop to boot, he was the ideal Seattleite. He moved there with his three children in tow after his wife had passed away; the memories in his hometown known as Laketown were simply too painful. In Laketown he had been a fisherman, as that was the town’s main economy. He knew he wouldn’t have a problem being hired as a fisherman around Seattle, and yet it didn’t feel quite right. After searching around for any available job that didn’t involve the water, he came across a small coffee shop for sale. The owner was retiring and none of his children wanted to take up the business, so Bard had swooped in, getting a remarkable deal. Five years later there he was, owner of an extremely successful coffee shop in the heart of Seattle. His children loved their school and had many friends, and Bard was happy. And yet he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something crucial. If that feeling seemed to melt away every time he talked to Thranduil Greenleaf, he wasn’t going to admit it to himself. No, it was much safer to ignore it and hope the annoying feeling would go away for good.

That strategy, however, was not working well and quite frankly Bard found himself looking forward to Thranduil’s visits more and more with every passing day. Each morning at eleven o’clock sharp the blond would stride into the shop and Bard would already have his usual waiting at the barstool in the corner, facing out the window at the bustling street outside. If he wasn’t too busy he would grab a coffee himself and sit down next to the man, continuing their conversation from the day before. Not that he was ever too busy for Thranduil; he was someone Bard could always make time for.

Lately, however, Thranduil’s visits were far from consistent, yet Bard didn’t question him. For all he knew there was already a significant other in the blond’s life and Bard was just deluding himself with thoughts of Thranduil’s sly smiles meaning more than just a simple acquaintanceship.

On this particular day Bard thought the man looked especially handsome, wearing a fitted grey suit with his hair cascading down his back. He felt inadequate in his stained apron, dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck. _Oh well._ If he ever got the chance, he would have to show Thranduil just how well he could dress. He could feel the man’s grey eyes on him and he suddenly realized he had asked him a question.

“Sorry, what was that?” he stuttered, embarrassed. 

“I asked if you would like to come over to my apartment with your son on Saturday. My son Legolas says they are in the same class and has been asking for a while to have Bain over. I thought that you may as well stay too, perhaps for dinner?”

Bard was speechless. _Did he really just invite him over to dinner?_ With his son, sure, but still. “I… Yes! I would li – I mean Bain would like that very much. And I would too, I mean… I’m going to shut up now.” He was sure his face was beet red, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and hide. Thranduil simply smiled, though, and reached into his pocket pulling out a pen. He scribbled what Bard assumed were directions on a nearby napkin and handed it to him. “Come over around four?” he asked, getting up to throw away his empty cup. 

“Sure! Sounds great.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Thranduil smiled, all charm.

“Yes! I’ll have your usual ready.” And with a wave Thranduil was gone, presumably on his way to the art museum where he worked. Bard looked down at the napkin in his hand to see directions to Thranduil’s apartment and the man’s phone number complete with a small heart at the bottom. His stomach fluttered like a child with a crush and he smiled, outfit combinations already racing through his mind.

****

Bard’s body swayed with the motion of the bus he and Bain were standing in, their hands clinging to the handles on the ceiling of the vehicle. When he had told his son about the invitation from the Greenleafs the boy had protested, saying that he most decidedly did not want to go. Bard had replied that he thought the two were friends at which point Bain shot him a look that said ‘ _Are you serious?_ ’ Bard had been confused until it hit him that Thranduil had used his son as an excuse to get Bard over for dinner, the revelation making him grin stupidly. Despite his son’s reluctance Bard convinced him to go along, the threat of no desserts for the next week looming over the thirteen year old.

The bus stopped only a block away from the address Thranduil had given him. As they got off they pulled their coats tighter around themselves to fend off the damp cold that hung in the air, clinging to their forms like an unpleasant second skin. They made their way to the proper apartment building and both father and son were surprised at how upscale this particular part of the city was. Bard had known that Thranduil was well off, but he had not expected _this_. 

Upon finding Thranduil’s building, a relatively low structure with ornate details carved beautifully into the marble of the façade, they entered through a sleek glass door. Bard and his son gasped audibly as they took in the grandeur. The lobby was no less grand than the outside; an enormous crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and curving flights of stairs wound their way up to the upper floors. A clear glass elevator resided in between the staircases, looking as if it were a piece of art in and of itself. Off to their right a receptionist sat at a long desk, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Can I help you?” he asked, probably smirking behind his mug at how ridiculous the duo looked with their mouths agape, standing in the middle of the room. 

“Ah… no.” Bard stammered, feeling for some reason as if he were a child caught in the act of doing something he was not supposed to. “We’re just visiting a friend.” The receptionist nodded his dark head and went back to sipping his drink, looking supremely bored.

“Come on, Bain.” Bard muttered and made his way towards the left hand staircase.

“Can’t we use the elevator?” Bain frowned, and Bard shook his head.

“It’s only the third floor. Taking the stairs won’t kill us.”

Truth be told, he didn’t want to take the elevator because he felt very inadequate. He worried, absurdly, that if he made one wrong move the whole building would collapse and they would go down with it.

As they climbed, Bard admired how even the banister was intricately carved; flowery runes decorated the glossy wood. He couldn’t help but wonder how Thranduil had come across all of his money to be able to afford such a high end place, and immediately felt guilty afterward. _Money doesn’t matter,_ he told himself. Still, he was curious. That curiosity mingled with a feeling of vague anxiety which he chalked up to the closing distance between him and Thranduil. They reached the third floor and turned left down the carpeted hallway, apartment numbers floating at the edges of his vision. 

“Which number is it?” Bain asked.

Bard glanced at the crumpled napkin in his hand and replied “Three twenty-three.”

Just as he said it, Bain stopped in front of a door much like all of the others, a big ‘323’ hanging in the middle of the painted wood. Bard took a deep breath and knocked. He heard the click of the lock and the door opened wide, the smell of a fir tree air freshener tickling his nose and bringing back memories of Laketown and his wife. Bard released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The air in his lungs caught once again, however, when he took in Thranduil’s appearance. He was wearing fitted jeans that flaunted his figure and a plaid button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up a quarter of the way underneath a grey vest. His hair was braided down his back and a dazzling smile lighted on his face, causing Bard’s stomach to flutter. 

“Come in!” Thranduil exclaimed, stepping out of the way. “How are you?”

“I’m great.” Bard smiled, taking in the beauty of Thranduil’s apartment. It was very clean and modern, sporting white walls with one brick wall as a focal point. Curving sculptures decorated the space as well as colorful, abstract paintings. Bard felt as though the space itself was a work of art while still being comfortable and inviting.

“This is my son, Legolas.” Thranduil introduced a boy Bain’s age with the same white blond hair as his father, though his was a bit shorter and lay in wavy strands around his head. Legolas nodded at Bard in greeting, not bothering to even look at Bain. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” Bard smiled.

“You must be Bain!” Thranduil greeted, holding out his hand for the boy to shake. “Legolas, why don’t you show Bain to your room?” Thranduil suggested in a tone that said it was more of an order, and Bard nudged Bain with his elbow when his son didn’t move. The teens looked at each other suspiciously before Legolas grunted and Bain followed him reluctantly through a door around the corner. 

“Wine?” Thranduil asked once the two had gone. Bard nodded his head and followed the man through an archway to the kitchen which was equally as modern and beautiful as the rest of the apartment.

“You have a gorgeous place.” Bard noted conversationally as Thranduil bent to pull a bottle out of the compact wine fridge.

“Thank you. I tried to make it feel modern, yet still inviting.”

“Well, I’d say you succeeded.” Bard assured and Thranduil seemed pleased at the praise.

Once the wine had been poured, Thranduil led Bard to the living room where a bright red leather couch sat in front of a glass coffee table. Large windows overlooked the street below, raindrops dripping down them in stereotypical Seattle weather. Their shoes made little clicking sounds on the hardwood floors and Bard focused on the noise, finding it strangely calming. 

When they sat down, Bard’s attention was drawn once again to the artwork all around him, particularly one sculpture of a woman with her arms outstretched, her hair cascading down her back in rippling waves and a gown pooling at her feet. “You collect art?” Bard asked, knowing that the man worked at the Frye Art Museum and thus probably had a love for it.

“Well… I suppose you could say that. I made all of the art in here.” Thranduil replied shyly, hiding behind his wine glass.

Bard looked at him in surprise. “The sculptures too?” he asked incredulously.

Thranduil laughed. “Yes. That one is my most recent.” he stated, gesturing to the one of the woman in the gown. 

“It’s amazing.” Bard breathed, marveling at the detail in all of the works. “You truly have a gift.”

Thranduil beamed and Bard could see a faint redness at the tips of his ears. A surge of satisfaction rushed through him at the realization that he could make this wonderful man blush. He wanted to do it again. 

Instead, however, he took a sip of his wine, wracking his brain for anything else to say. “How has work been?” he asked, realizing how little he really knew about Thranduil Greenleaf. 

“Oh, you know; same as always. It’s been fairly slow this year which I suppose could be seen as a bad thing, but to me it’s sort of nice. I’ve noticed that you have been busy at the shop.”

Bard nodded. “Aye, it’s been a blessing. We’re doing much better than in previous years, and it isn’t even the busy season yet. Plus,” he added with a sly smile, “I’ve gotten to meet some handsome strangers.” He silently worried that he overstepped some boundary or that Thranduil already had a significant other, but much to his relief the blond took on a mischievous look of his own and said “Oh? And who might they be?”

“Well, there’s that gentleman who always stops by on Thursdays; Richard I believe his name is.” Bard skirted, knowing this was a lame attempt at flirting. “There’s also that new fellow who always wears a bowtie; have you noticed him? He’s usually there when you are. But the one I’m most intrigued by is this blond..." 

“Tell me more about him.” Thranduil insisted with a grin, taking a sip of his wine. “You seem quite taken.” 

Despite himself, Bard blushed and tried to think of the right thing to say; something flirty, but not so flirty as to be taken completely as a joke. Something that Thranduil would run through over and over again in his mind at night wondering what exactly Bard had meant by it.

“He’s strikingly beautiful; when you see him you can’t help but look again.” he began. “He takes his coffee with two packets of Splenda and a fair amount of creamer, and on Fridays he loves three pumps of caramel flavoring. He has a son whom I don’t know much about, other than I don’t believe he and my own son are actually very fond of each other, contrary to what this man would have me believe.” At this Thranduil bowed his head, hiding a blush. “I have recently learned that he’s a very talented artist, which I suppose I should have expected since he works at an art museum. Still, it’s very impressive. I don’t know much else about him, though I would like to.”

By now both of them were blushing like children and they simultaneously hid behind their wine glasses, taking small sips. Finally Thranduil spoke. “You are very kind to say such things. I cannot imagine that he would not be taken by you just as much, if not more so.”

Bard smiled and he felt himself relax. _Did he really just say that he’s taken by me?_ His heart fluttered and he reached across the gap between them to grab Thranduil’s soft hand. The touch sent sparks up Bard’s arm. Their fingers intertwined perfectly as if they were made for each other, and Bard felt that it was so very _right_. “I can’t explain it, but I want to know everything about you. And maybe that’s weird since I’ve only ever talked to you at work, but still you fascinate me.” Bard said in a low tone, and Thranduil was silent for a moment before he spoke, as if testing his words in his mind. Bard felt that his heart was about to beat out of chest in anticipation of what Thranduil would say or do. He made to pull his hand away when Thranduil didn’t speak, but the man grabbed it back, giving it a slight squeeze. 

“I have lived here most of my life.” he began, his voice low. “I met my wife when I was eighteen; we had gone to the University of Seattle together and we were set up on a blind date. We dated for four years before we were married, and only a year after that we had Legolas. We were happy. I had recently gotten hired at the museum, my wife worked in retail, and we were renting a new apartment. Life was good. But there was a call one night from a number I didn’t recognize. My wife had been late getting home and I was worried, though sometimes her boss made her stay late to straighten up the displays so I didn’t call her. The woman on the line told me that she had been a victim of a hit and run and that by the time anyone found her she was dead.” 

Thranduil’s voice had so much pain in it and Bard’s heart broke for him. He couldn’t help but think of his own late wife and the pain her death had caused him. He ran his thumb gently over the back of Thranduil’s hand as the man composed himself enough to continue. He wished so badly that he could take away Thranduil’s pain, but Bard knew better than most that that is not the way it works. No matter how badly someone wants to help you, the pain of losing someone you love must be endured alone.

“A couple years after that I moved into this place with Legolas.” he continued. “He doesn’t remember his mother, but I couldn’t bear to live in that apartment any longer than we had to.” He paused and took a deep, steadying breath. “It’s hard, so hard. But we get through. That’s what we do, right?” Bard could tell that Thranduil was finished, and he squeezed his hand gently.

“Thank you for telling me.” he murmured, and Thranduil nodded his head slightly. Bard felt that it was only fair that he reciprocate the gesture, so he ran words over in his mind. Finally he spoke. “I moved here five years ago after living in a small town called Laketown my entire life. My wife and I were high school sweethearts. I didn’t go to college seeing as being a bargeman doesn’t require an education. The main economy in Laketown is fishing, so there were always job openings for working on the water. We got married when we were both eighteen and by the time we were twenty we had our first daughter, Sigrid. My wife worked as a schoolteacher, so my crazy hours balanced out since she was able to take care of her when I was working. Two years after Sigrid was born we had Bain, and three years after _that_ we had my second daughter, Tilda. Only two years after Tilda was born my wife died of cancer. We stayed in Laketown for three years because I didn’t know what to do or where to go. Finally we decided to move here and I bought the shop from a gentleman who was retiring. Five years later here we are; one happy, albeit a bit broken, family.”

Once he had finished, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders; as if telling someone who understood the pain of losing a spouse was exactly what he needed. Now it was Thranduil’s turn to squeeze Bard’s hand reassuringly, and he was grateful for it.

“It’s nice to have someone understand.” Thranduil confessed, and Bard nodded his agreement. They didn’t pull away from each other; they simply sat, Thranduil staring at their entwined hands and Bard staring at Thranduil’s porcelain face. He thought that Thranduil was easily the most beautiful person he had ever seen; he appeared almost ethereal. 

The brunette was about to change the subject to something a bit lighter and ask about Thranduil’s music taste when they heard a door open behind them and the pounding of footsteps. They sprung apart and turned to see their sons round the corner. “Ada, is dinner ready?” Legolas asked eagerly, and Bard lifted his arm to look at his watch. _How had they been talking for two hours already?_

Thranduil appeared to be just as alarmed at the time and said “I put ravioli in the crockpot earlier, so it should be done by now. Go set the table, please, and I’ll pour drinks.” With that the boys bounded into the kitchen and Bard and Thranduil followed suit. 

Bard inhaled deeply as Thranduil lifted the lid off of the crockpot, steam rising in an aromatic plume. “That smells amazing.” he sighed, and Thranduil chuckled.

“It’s four cheese.” the man said, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he reached in to stir the noodles; not that Bard was staring.

“I’ll pour drinks…” he announced, wanting to make himself useful. Once everything was ready, the four men sat, heaping plates of ravioli and bowls of salad in front of them. Before either of the dads could say anything, both boys were speaking at once.

“Can we hang out again soon?” Legolas asked, and Bain nodded his head in agreement. Bard glanced at Thranduil, both of them wearing matching looks of surprise.

“I was under the impression that you two aren’t too fond of each other.” Bard returned, one eyebrow cocked in question.

“We weren’t.” Bain agreed. “But then we realized how much we both have in common and it’s totally awesome! I’ve never met anyone else who’s into making models, but Legolas’ are _amazing_! You have to see them before we go…”

Bard laughed to himself as his son rambled on. He didn’t miss the smile on Legolas’ face either and realized that this could be the start of a great friendship between the two. “I don’t see why we couldn’t all get together again soon.” Bard declared once Bain finished his excited rant. “Are you busy on Saturday? You could come over to our apartment for the evening.” he suggested, turning to Thranduil.

“No, I don’t believe we have anything planned.” he replied, a faint smile on his lips. “I would like that very much.” Bard couldn’t be sure, but he dared to hope that perhaps Thranduil reciprocated the feelings Bard felt for the man. The prospect of that made his heart soar, and he shoved a ravioli noodle in his mouth lest he say something that he would later regret. 

The rest of the dinner flew by. Bain and Legolas were more than happy to keep the conversation afloat, filling their dads in on all of the gossip in their class. Before Bard knew it everyone’s plate was empty and they all stood to clean up.

“Are you a washer or a dryer?” Bard asked Thranduil.

“Dryer.” the man replied, then hastily added “But you really don’t need to do either; you’re our guest.” 

“Don’t worry about it; I wouldn’t leave you with a mess. Lucky for you, I’m a washer anyway.” Thranduil smiled and moved to grab a dish towel as Bard turned on the hot water in the sink, watching as steam rose up. 

They fell into a comfortable rhythm and Bard enjoyed the feeling of the hot water on his hands and of the warmth of the man beside him. Occasionally their elbows brushed, or their fingers touched as a dish was passed between them, and Bard felt foolish for the flutter that rose in his stomach each time they came into contact. He wondered whether Thranduil registered their every touch just as acutely as he did, then shook himself. _Stop being ridiculous. You hardly even know him,_ he silently berated himself. Still, he felt as if they had known each other for years after only just now beginning to learn much of anything about him. And he wouldn’t soon forget the way their hands had fit so perfectly together, as if they were carved from the same mold.

When they finished, Bard took the towel from Thranduil so he could dry his hands. “We make a good team.” he decided, and Thranduil nodded.

“We do. It makes me wonder what else we could accomplish together.” 

Bard felt his face heat up and he ducked his head, a smile forming on his lips. “Maybe with your help I could actually successfully clean my apartment.” he teased. 

“Let’s not get too hasty.” Thranduil laughed, holding up his hands. It was then that Legolas and Bain walked into the kitchen. 

“Dad, come see Legolas’ models. They’re even better than mine!” Bain exclaimed, pulling on Bard’s sleeve. 

“Alright, but then we’d better go. Your sisters are home alone.” Bard stated, and the boys led the way to Legolas’ room. Upon entering, Bard gasped audibly. Models of all kinds decorated the room, from airplanes hanging from the ceiling to a cityscape lying on the floor to trucks sitting atop a massive bookshelf. 

“Legolas, this is _incredible._ ” Bard praised. As he scanned the room thinking of all of the time the boy must have devoted to them, his gaze fell on a bow and a quiver. “You practice archery?” he asked, intrigued by this revelation.

“Yes sir, I have been for as long as I can remember.”

“Really? I’m an archer myself.” Bard informed him. 

“ _Really?_ ” Legolas’ eyebrows shot up at that. “How good are you?” 

“ _Legolas.”_ Thranduil scolded, but Bard simply laughed.

“No, that’s alright. I don’t mean to brag, but I am pretty good.” he smiled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Legolas smiled sheepishly. “Maybe we could go to the range together one day." 

Bard grinned and said “I would enjoy that.” 

After a few minutes of admiring Legolas’ work, Bard announced with a clap of his hands that he and Bain ought to get going. Nobody seemed particularly happy about it, but all made their way to the front door.

“Thank you again for having us.” Bard thanked once they reached the door.

“It was our pleasure.” Thranduil smiled. “I look forward to Saturday.” 

“Me too.” Bard concurred, and both Legolas and Bain nodded their agreement. “I’ll see you Monday, then?” 

“See you Monday.” Thranduil assured. Before Bard really registered what he was doing, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Thranduil in a hug. The man smelled faintly of cologne and wine, a combination that made him dizzy with desire. They pulled apart all too soon, both blushing bright red. Bard didn’t miss the knowing looks that Bain and Legolas sent each other which only served to make him blush further.

“Right, then.” he stammered, moving to open the door. “We’ll be off.”

“Have a good night.” Thranduil waved, looking adorably flustered.

“You too.” Bard nodded to both father and son.

Once they had made it down the stairs and out of the building, Bain turned to his father with a smirk. “You’ve got it bad, da.” Bard simply rolled his eyes, smiling to himself as he thought of Thranduil’s perfect laugh and how he wanted to make him smile again, no matter what it took. _Yes, he had it bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is my first multi chap, so I'm sort of getting used to the pacing and everything. This is unbetaed and I would really love to have a beta for future chapters. If you would be interested please don't hesitate to shoot me an ask on Tumblr at gaybrielreyyes! ◕‿◕


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday passed by uneventfully; Bard had spent the day with his children, helping them with school projects and playing games. When Monday rolled around he felt as if he still needed a day off, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. He said goodbye to his children as he did every morning and went on his way in his silver Prius. Absentmindedly, the man watched as raindrops raced each other up the windshield while he drove, his thoughts drifting to Thranduil. _What would he say to him? Maybe the blond had changed his mind and didn’t want to see him anymore…_ Bard shook himself, muttering “There’s no need to dwell on those thoughts. Everything will be fine.”

When he arrived at the shop, he flipped the sign to ‘open’ and turned on all of the lights. The barista went about his daily routine and gradually people filed in, most wanting to-go orders, but some taking a seat with their laptop at one of the small tables. The smell of coffee and breakfast sandwiches quickly filled the air, and Bard took a deep breath through the nose, thinking of how much he loved his job.

The morning flew by, the thought of what he would say to Thranduil never leaving his mind. As eleven o’clock approached, Bard made Thranduil’s usual and placed it on the counter at the corner window seat. As the minutes ticked by, however, he soon realized that Thranduil was not going to show. 

Of course, the first thing he thought was self-deprecating: _You most likely made him uncomfortable on Saturday. You really shouldn’t have invited him over; he probably wants to avoid you now._ These thoughts raced through his mind like a tornado, leaving only destruction in their wake. Before he could completely ruin his mood for the day, he silenced his mind by taking a couple of deep breaths and thinking rationally. _He probably had a meeting, or maybe he’s sick. Forget about it for now and text him later._  

With that the brunette was calm once again, and he continued serving up orders and making small talk with the regulars. Before he knew it the day was over with and he was bundling up to simply walk from the shop to his Prius. As he walked out, Bard flipped the sign to ‘closed’ and locked the door, fumbling with his keys. His breath fogged in front of his face and he promptly shoved his chilled hands into his coat pockets. He felt the cold bite of the wind on his cheeks and it tousled the strands of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail, which he absently brushed away. 

He clicked his keys as he approached his car and heard the pop of the doors unlocking. Shivering, he slid in and slammed the door, then turned the keys in the ignition. Cool air came rushing out of the vents and Bard groaned, slumping in his seat as he waited for the heat to come on. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathed a heavy sigh, thinking that all he wanted to do was go home, see his kids, and go to bed.

A bzzzzzz… bzzzzzz… sounded from his pocket, causing Bard to jump in surprise. Annoyed, he pulled it out, the caller ID reading ‘Tauriel’.

 _Oh no_ , he groaned, remembering the plans he and the red head had made the previous week to meet for dinner. He tapped the green circle and grumbled an “I’m on my way, sorry.” 

“You forgot again, didn’t you?” Tauriel sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother with you.”

“Beats me.” Bard replied, already turning out of his parking space behind the shop and onto the illuminated street. “I’ll see you in fifteen.”

He made it in ten, the universe working in his favor for once. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant, but they had amazing food; from pastas to hamburgers, to things a bit more exotic, the Prancing Pony had it all, and at reasonable prices. It was a favorite among locals, though it wasn’t terribly crowded on a Monday evening.

The man pushed open the door with his shoulder, the smell of greasy food and the sound of loud talking and laughter assaulting his senses. Tauriel waved from a booth off to his right and he made his way over, shedding his jacket as he walked.

“Sorry I’m late.” Bard apologized sheepishly, and Tauriel grinned.

“It’s no problem. You’ve been busy lately.”

Bard gave her a quizzical look. “How would you know?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Because I was there? Honestly, Bard, I know you’re scatterbrained, but you waved at me this morning. Do you really not remember?”

He scanned his memory for any recollection at all, but came up short. “Ahhh… no.” Tauriel simply shook her head and took a sip of her water. Bard swiped his finger through the ring left on the tabletop, a habit he had not been able to resist ever since he was a child. An elderly waitress came to take their orders, and Bard handed her the menus.

“How have you been?” He asked conversationally once the woman left. He had always found it easy to talk to Tauriel, their friendship blooming when he had met her at his shop one day. She had come in for the first time only to have some perverted man grab her backside. Without missing a beat, she wrenched his arm around, causing him to cry out in pain. Bard could remember the surge of pride that had rushed through him at seeing this stranger stand up for herself, whispering something no doubt very threatening in his ear before turning him loose with a shove. The man had stumbled out of the shop and Bard hadn’t seen him since.

After the man had left, Tauriel stuck around, ordering the first of many coffees from the shop. Bard hadn’t been able to resist the urge to commend her on her toughness, and the two had hit it off when they learned that they were both archers. They had been best friends ever since.

“I’ve been well.” Tauriel shrugged, then added “I’ve met someone.” with a quirk to her lips. 

“Oh?” Bard asked, raising an eyebrow in question. “Who?”

“His name’s Kíli.” She answered wistfully. “I’ve known him for a while... I’d always see him at the archery range, and one day he just came over and started talking to me. We never hung out outside of the range, but then a couple of weeks ago he asked if I wanted to go out to dinner, and of course I said yes. And… yeah. One thing led to another, and here we are.”

Bard could tell that she was very happy, and he knew that she would never put up with someone that treated her with less respect than she deserved. Still, he wanted to meet this Kíli for himself and decide whether or not he was worthy of a woman like Tauriel.

“I’d love to meet him.” He smiled. “Maybe the kids and I could meet you both here sometime?” Tauriel glowed at that suggestion and nodded her head enthusiastically.

“That would be great! I miss the kiddos, and Kíli’s like a big kid himself; I know they’ll all love one another."

Bard grinned. “It’s settled then.” With that their food arrived, the mouth-watering smell of grilled chicken and rice wafting up to Bard’s nose. He took a deep breath and moaned, reaching for his fork and knife.

They ate in companionable silence, and it was only a matter of time before Bard’s thoughts wandered to a certain blond haired man and his reason for not showing up to the shop that morning. He wouldn’t normally be upset; it was just that now Thranduil had his number. If he was sick, Bard thought he would have at least texted a heads up so that Bard wouldn’t make a cup of coffee that would go to waste. In Bard’s mind, the only reason he would have for not showing up, and not telling Bard, was that he was avoiding him. As these grim thoughts raced through Bard’s tired mind, Tauriel poked his forearm with her pinkie.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, a concerned expression on her face. “You just got all broody all of a sudden.”

“It’s nothing.” Bard replied, straightening up under Tauriel’s gaze. She shot him a _you’re-not-fooling-anyone-especially-not-me_ look and Bard caved, as he always did. “There’s this man…” he sighed, “Thranduil’s his name. We’ve been talking for a while at the shop, but the other day he asked Bain and I over for dinner with him and his son. We really hit it off, at least I think we did, and I invited him over on Saturday. He pretty much always comes to the shop at eleven o’clock sharp every morning, but he didn’t show today, and he didn’t text or call to let me know, either.”

“Wait, did you say Thranduil?” Tauriel asked, her fork stopped mid route to her mouth. “Thranduil Greenleaf?”

“Yeah… Why?”

“Because he’s my boss.” Tauriel stated. Bard simply blinked at her. _Of course! How could he not have made the connection?_ Tauriel had been working at the art museum for about three years now.

“Oh.” He replied dumbly.

“And I don’t think you don’t need to worry about him avoiding you, because if he is then he’s also avoiding us all at work too.”

“He wasn’t there?” Bard questioned, the short burst of relief followed quickly by worry that something had happened to him.

Tauriel shook her head, chewing her last bite of pasta. Bard was already finished, and the waitress brought them two bills, clearing their plates from the table. “I wouldn’t be too worried, though,” she assured, digging through her purse, “he misses a lot. He says it’s allergies, but I don’t know. Not that it’s my place to speculate.”

Bard wasn’t convinced with that story either. After all, it was winter in the middle of Seattle. That really didn’t leave too many things that someone could be allergic to. “Should I text him and ask how he is?” Bard wondered aloud, and Tauriel shrugged, a teasing smile lighting on her face.

“I’m sure he’d like getting a text from his mutual crush.” she grinned, and Bard rolled his eyes.

“He’s not… I don’t…” He gave up on his protests when the waitress stopped to grab their cash and winked at him, making him blush in embarrassment. Tauriel laughed and stood, flipping her hair over one shoulder. 

“Whatever you say.” She appeased, and Bard sighed. “I’m just kidding.” Tauriel insisted as they opened the door and traipsed through the small parking lot. “But you really should text him.”

“Yeah, I will.” Bard agreed.

“I’ll probably stop by for coffee at some point this week. Try to remember that you saw me this time.” She joked, and Bard rolled his eyes.

“I’ll try, but I must say you aren’t terribly memorable.”

“Oh, and you are?” Tauriel retorted and they both laughed. “See you later, then.” Tauriel smiled, pulling him in for a hug. She was nearly his height; that never failed to take Bard off guard even though he’d known her for four years now.

“Drive careful.” He replied, offering a wave as he turned away.

“You, too!”

With that the brunette returned to his car, once again hating the cool air that blasted from the vents as he waited for the heat to kick on. The clock on his radio read 8:39, and he sighed, knowing that he would miss tucking Tilda in. Sigrid was always very good about getting the ten year old to bed right at nine, and Bard was grateful for it. He only wished that he could be the one to do it more often.

He was grateful for the time he got to spend with Tauriel, however, so he didn’t complain. Before he knew it he was pulling up to their apartment complex, stowing his Prius in the parking garage across the street and making his way through the biting wind.

Upon arriving at the door to their three bedroom apartment Bard knocked, the desire to fumble with his keys not particularly high. Bain answered almost immediately, giving him a nod in greeting. The boy had stopped hugging his dad hello and goodbye a couple of years before, and Bard missed it. Still, he had Sigrid and Tilda, so it wasn’t so bad.

“Hey, da.” Sigrid smiled, wrapping her slender arms around his waist and burying her face in his coat.

“Hey. Is Tilda in bed?” He thought he already knew the answer.

As he suspected, Sigrid nodded, and Bard moved towards the girls’ bedroom to kiss his youngest goodnight. He tried to be as quiet as possible, but he managed to trip over Sigrid’s textbook that lie open on the floor. He caught himself on his oldest’s empty bed and Tilda sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

“Hi, darling.” Bard greeted, moving to wrap his arms around the girl.

“Hi, da. Did Tauriel say anything about me?”

Bard laughed and answered, “She said that she misses you. She has a boyfriend now, so she wants us all to meet him soon.”

“Really?” She lit up, smiling wide. “What’s his name?”

“Kíli, I believe. He’s an archer just like me and Tauriel.”

“I want to be an archer.” Tilda yawned, and Bard kissed the top of her head.

“I know, darling. I’ll give you lessons as soon as I’m not so busy with work.” He promised. “Now go to sleep, you’ve got school bright and early.” Tilda complied without protest, and Bard made his exit, this time being careful not to trip over anything.

He walked into the living room to see Sigrid and Bain curled up on the beige couch watching some cartoon. “I’m going to bed, guys.” He announced. “Lights out in thirty minutes, understand?” Both of them replied with soft yesses and he kissed the tops of their heads. “Goodnight, darlings.”

“Goodnight, da.” They replied simultaneously, and Bard shuffled to his bedroom. 

The man took a hot shower and thought of what he would text Thranduil the entire time. When he finally hopped out, put on a fresh pair of boxers, and brushed his teeth, he climbed into bed with a contented sigh. He reached for his smartphone and pulled up Thranduil’s name, staring at the screen for a few minutes until it dimmed. Finally he decided to simply write ‘Hey. Everything alright?’ 

He waited with baited breath for a reply, too wired now to fall asleep. A couple minutes passed and Bard thought he might burst with anticipation when his phone finally vibrated.

‘Hey, yes. Sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t show up. I slept most of the morning, and by the time I woke up it was already after 11.’ the text read, and Bard thought to himself, _Well that doesn’t tell me anything. At least he said he’s alright…_  

‘Are you sick?’ He replied.

‘Allergies. I should be in tomorrow, but if I’m not I’ll try to let you know ahead of time.’

Bard still wasn’t convinced that allergies were the actual reason Thranduil had been absent, yet he didn’t question him. Instead he sent ‘Alright, just let me know if there’s anything I can do.’ 

‘Thanks. Sleep well :)’ came Thranduil’s reply, and Bard’s stomach fluttered like a teenager with a crush at the smiley face.

He rolled his eyes at himself and typed ‘Goodnight (:’. With that Bard shut off his phone and twisted over to go to sleep, hoping that he would get to see Thranduil the next day. He would need to come up with something to make the man laugh so he could see his perfect smile once again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I promise stuff will start to happen next chapter... Hopefully Tauriel and Bard bff feels will tide you over until then! ❀◕ ‿ ◕❀ 
> 
> I thought I'd point out that the waitress who winks at Bard is a genderbent Gandalf (because we all know he's shipper trash too). 
> 
> And thank you to my lovely beta, @Shin_Min_Hee9!


	3. Chapter 3

The chemical smell of window cleaner assaulted Bard’s nose as he swiped meticulously at the glass. It was Saturday and he had been cleaning all afternoon, only stopping to put a chicken in the oven. Bain came around the corner and scrunched up his nose, saying “Da, you’ve been cleaning all day. The apartment looks fine.” 

Bard turned to look at him, the paper towel bunched up in his hand. “Did you _see_ Thranduil and Legolas’ place?” He quipped. “They’ll probably think we’re disgusting.” With that the man turned back around to finish his job, picturing in his mind the eye roll that Bain was surely giving him.

Upon finishing the final window, he glanced at the clock. It read 5:06, which meant that they would be over in less than an hour. Bard took in the apartment with a satisfied sigh, tossing the paper towel in the garbage can and stowing the window cleaner in the cupboard on his way to his room.

“They’ll be here in an hour; make sure you’re ready!” He called to Bain as he padded across the carpeted bedroom over to his bathroom. The brunette took a shower and dried himself off, his hair standing on end and looking like he stuck his finger in a light socket. Once dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist and stood in front of the compact closet. Bard leafed through every article he owned, but none of them caught his eye. He wanted to wear something bold, but not _too_ bold; something that was memorable, but still understated.

Finally he decided on a geometric striped black and white sweater and a pair of black pants. Then came the issue of his hair. Before he could begin to brush it, a knock sounded at the door. “Bain, get that! I’m not ready!” He heard Bain run to the door and the friendly greetings of everyone reached his ears. He let out a frustrated growl as he took in his messy hair and decided that the easiest thing to do would be to put it in a bun. He tied it up in seconds and gave himself a once over. _It’ll do,_ he thought, and with that he emerged from his bedroom to find Thranduil standing in front of the wall of pictures Bard had been adding to in the living room ever since they moved in five years ago. 

“Sorry about that.” Bard greeted, referring to his tardiness. Thranduil turned to him with a closed-lip smile and dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. The man’s hair cascaded down past his shoulders in a luxurious blond sheet, and Bard had the sudden urge to run his fingers through it. He shook his head to clear it and stepped closer to his friend. 

“It’s no problem.” The man assured, then turned to face the wall once again and pointed to a picture of Bard and his wife with a smiling Sigrid in the middle of them on her first day of kindergarten. “Is that your wife?” He asked, his voice conversational, but quiet. Bard did not doubt that Thranduil had been the recipient of that tone more times than he could count, just as Bard had been. He usually found the tone infuriating, but coming from Thranduil it made him feel understood and accepted rather than fragile and broken.

Bard replied with a low “yes” and Thranduil simply nodded his head.

“She had a lovely smile.” He stated and turned to face Bard once again.

“Yeah, she did. Everyone always told her that she could light up a room with it, and it was absolutely true. It was almost impossible to feel sad around her when she smiled at you like that.” Memories of that beaming smile being directed at him, and him alone, flashed through Bard’s mind and he swallowed the lump that grew in his throat. Thranduil seemed to notice the man’s discomfort and changed the subject suavely. 

“I almost forgot…” he trailed as he bent towards a blue gift bag on the couch that Bard hadn’t noticed. Thranduil held it out for him to take and Bard shot the blond the _oh, you shouldn’t have_ look. Thranduil returned a shy smile that made Bard’s heart flutter and he pulled out the tissue paper. It crinkled as Thranduil took it from him and Bard reached in to pull out a small canvas painting.

He gasped as he took in the art, recognizing it almost instantly as the scene out the corner window seat at the shop. Thranduil had expertly blended neutral tones with more colorful ones to perfectly capture the feeling that Bard felt every time he and Thranduil sat and sipped their coffee together.

“Thran…” he murmured, trying to think of the right words to express his thanks. Bard suddenly realized that he had Thranduil’s soft hand in his own; who had initiated the contact he did not know. His stomach flipped with delight at their close proximity and his breath caught as Thranduil dipped his head ever so slightly. Bard took the hint and closed the small gap between them, their sighs harmonizing ever so melodically.

Thranduil’s lips were soft and warm against his own, and after a moment Bard mobilized his tongue to explore Thranduil’s mouth. The blond moaned and pressed himself closer against Bard’s body. His heart fluttered and he ran his fingers through Thranduil’s silky hair, relishing the sensation of the man’s own hands fingering the short strands that rested at the nape of his neck. 

Neither of them registered the muffled giggles that came from behind them at first, but soon they tensed against one another. Their eyes flew open as they each turned towards the sound. Legolas and Bain stood at the entrance to the living room, their hands unsuccessfully covering huge grins. Bard’s son elbowed the other boy and they both turned and all but ran into Bain’s room, shutting the door behind them. Bard turned to Thranduil, eyes wide. What he found on Thranduil’s face was a similar expression before the man busted into laughter, lines creasing on his forehead. Bard felt a laugh bubble in his own throat as he watched Thranduil, and soon both of them were leaning against one another, shaking with laughter. Bard’s face was buried in the blond’s neck and once they had stilled a bit he began to press light kisses to his smooth skin. He felt Thranduil swallow and the man let out what can only be described as a purr.

Somehow they wound up on the couch, Bard’s hands buried in Thranduil’s hair, and Thranduil’s hands clinging to the fabric of Bard’s sweater. After a moment Thranduil moved his hands down Bard’s chest to finger the hem of the garment. He slid his hands under the fabric and the touch of the man’s fingers on Bard’s bare skin made him shiver. He began to tug ever so slightly on Thranduil’s hair which caused the man to dig his fingers into Bard’s abdomen. The sharp sensation made him gasp and he surged closer to Thranduil, if that was even possible.

It took him a moment to register an incessant beeping coming from the kitchen, and when he did notice it he deigned to ignore it. _Must there always be interruptions?_ The longer it went on, however, the more distracted he became. Finally Thranduil pulled away, saying “I think dinner is ready.” Bard grumbled and nodded. Both men moved to stand up and their hands entwined, making Bard’s heart flutter.

They entered the kitchen and Bard grabbed two potholders and pulled a golden chicken out of the oven, a heavenly aroma invading the apartment. He sliced into the meat to make sure it was done. Once he was satisfied, he turned off the oven and moved to pull a fruit salad out of the fridge. 

“What are you allergic to?” He asked offhandedly, hoping Thranduil didn’t think he suspected him of lying.

“Sorry?” 

“You said the other night that you have allergies so bad that you have to stay home. I just wondered what you’re allergic to.” Bard elaborated. 

The man didn’t answer at first, which Bard found suspicious. Finally he simply said “Dust.” 

Bard looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I saw your apartment and it’s perfectly clean.” 

“Not everywhere is as clean as my apartment.” Thranduil replied easily. Bard stared at him for perhaps a moment too long, and Thranduil met his gaze with a look that dared the barista to challenge him.

Bard left it alone, turning to remove the cling wrap from the fruit salad bowl. “Boys!” He called. “Dinner’s ready!” They came racing into the kitchen and Bard shook his head, thinking that the only time Bain ever moved that fast was when food was involved. “Pour drinks, please.” The man ordered, and he passed out plates himself. 

Once everyone had their food and were seated, Thranduil asked what the boys were up to in Bain’s room. “Models.” Legolas replied. “I’m showing Bain a trick for making really straight lines with paint.”

“That’s nice.” Thranduil smiled. “It sounds like you two have a lot you can teach one another.” Both boys nodded and everyone went back to eating their food.

Silence ensued for a few minutes, and Bard knew that it was only a matter of time before one of the boys mentioned the kiss. Sure enough, Bain suddenly blurted out “Are you two dating now? Because it would be so cool if me and Legolas became brothers.” Bard rubbed his right eye with his index finger and looked to Thranduil, who seemed to be struggling with his words as well.

“I… suppose we are, yes.” Bard affirmed, looking to Thranduil to be sure that he was alright with this development. The man sent him an encouraging smile and Bard felt relief wash over him, followed quickly by elation. _I’m dating Thranduil_ was the only thought that ran through his mind for the rest of dinner. 

When they finished eating and had cleaned up, Bard once again washing the dishes as Thranduil dried them, Thranduil announced that they ought to be leaving. Bard and Bain escorted the two to the door, and Thranduil turned to Bard once they reached it.

“Thank you again for having us.” He smiled.

Bard replied with “Of course. And thank you for the painting, it’s perfect.” Thranduil blushed at that and twisted the doorknob, he and Legolas stepping out into the cold hallway. 

“I’ll see you Monday, then.” Thranduil announced, and Bard nodded.

“See you, Bain! Bye, Bard!” Legolas waved, and they waved back. 

Once they were left alone again, Bain turned to Bard with a grin. “I’m happy for you, da.” He professed, and Bard was happy too.

****

He had been coloring with Tilda when he got the call from Thranduil.

Tilda was drawing what she claimed was a crown, though it looked to Bard more like a yellow blob. He was drawing an elk and trying not to picture how regal Thranduil would look seated upon it. With his silky blond hair and commanding presence, Bard thought that the man would look unearthly and more than a little intimidating.

He was roused from his fantasy when his phone vibrated on the wood floor beside him. The caller ID read ‘Thran’ with a picture he had taken of him the other day; a teasing half-smile lighting on his face and making his blue eyes shine. It was an image that made Bard smile whenever he saw it. As he answered the phone, however, and let out an easy “Hey, what’s up?”, the happy feeling dissipated quickly upon hearing Thranduil’s despondent voice.

“Bard?” He started, and his voice sounded tired and weak.“I’m so sorry, I know its Sunday and I hate asking this of you, it’s just I don’t know what to do and Legolas has nowhere to go, and –“

Bard cut him off by telling him to take a deep breath and asking what was wrong, to which Thranduil replied “I’m going to the hospital. But don’t worry about me; this is typical. It’s just that I think I’ll be there for at least a couple of nights and Legolas can’t stay by himself that long and I really don’t want him to miss school because of this, so would you be willing to take him, just for a couple nights?” It wrenched Bard’s heart to hear him sounding so broken, and of course he was worried about why he was going to the hospital, and _why did he say this is a normal thing?_  

“Of course we’ll take him.” Bard assured, and Thranduil began to thank him profusely. “Don’t worry about it.” He interrupted, not wanting Thranduil to have anything more weighing on his mind. “Is there anything else I can do? Can I take you to the hospital?”

“No, no.” Thranduil said hastily. “I’ll be fine, thank you so much. I’ll keep in touch with you so you know how long you’ll have Legolas.”

“Okay…” Bard agreed. He didn’t like that Thranduil was leaving him in the dark. Not that he thought Thranduil owed him an explanation; after all they had only just begun to date. He couldn’t keep himself from wondering, however, what was wrong. “Tell Legolas that I’ll be over in half an hour to bring him back here.” Thranduil thanked him again and hung up. Bard turned to Tilda, his picture left forgotten on the floor.

“Thranduil needs me to pick Legolas up and bring him here. I’m going to need you and Bain and Sigrid to include him and make him feel better.” Bard informed Tilda, and the girl looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Why, is Mr. Thranduil going to the hospital?”

Bard nodded. “Yes, but I don’t want you to talk about it around Legolas. It might make him feel bad. I need you all to take his mind off of it.”

“Will Mr. Thranduil be okay?” Tilda asked, her innocent eyes holding traces of concern. She and Sigrid had met the Greenleafs this past week when they had all gone out to dinner at the Prancing Pony, and the girls had taken an instant liking to them.

“I think so, darling. Don’t worry about it.” He consoled, running his fingers through the hair on the top of her head. He told Sigrid and Bain the same thing he had told Tilda, similar questions as his youngest had asked coming from the both of them. Leaving his children at home, he donned his coat and walked across the street to the parking garage, hopping into his Prius and driving towards Thranduil’s apartment.

When he arrived, he made his way through the lobby and took the stairs two at a time; he still wasn’t fond of taking the elevator. He turned down the hallway on the third floor, the carpet plush beneath his boots. When he got to apartment 323 he knocked, and Legolas opened the door almost immediately, a duffel bag and backpack in his hands.

“Here, let me take that.” Bard offered, reaching for the backpack which Legolas gratefully handed to him. “Is your dad okay?”

Legolas didn’t appear to be distraught; only tired, which showed Bard just how common this occurrence must be. “Yeah, he’ll be alright.” The boy stated simply, moving out into the hall and locking the door. 

“Is he sick?” Bard questioned, not wanting to pry but also wanting to know what was going on.

“No…” Legolas hesitated. “He just has to go sometimes.” This confused Bard even more, but he didn’t ask any more questions about it. “Thank you for taking me.” Legolas thanked as they descended down the staircase and walked through the lobby doors out into the chilly afternoon air.

“Of course, it’s no problem at all.” Bard insisted, and he helped Legolas throw his bags in the backseat of the car. They drove back to the Bowmans’ apartment without saying anything else. Bard had turned on a pop station on the radio that his kids liked, thinking that Legolas probably would too. The boy didn’t so much as move the entire way there; only shifting once they had parked so that he could get out.

They made their way across the street and up to the apartment. Bard twisted his key in the lock and warmth rushed to greet them. They shed their coats and Bard announced “You can go put your stuff in Bain’s room if you want, he should be in there. You’ll have to sleep on the floor unless you and Bain want to get cozy tonight. I think there’s a sleeping bag in his closet if you want to use it.” Legolas thanked him again and disappeared into Bain’s room, leaving Bard to his thoughts. 

Why was Thranduil going to the hospital? And why did he say that it was ‘typical’? Worse yet, why did Legolas seem so calm in the face of all this? Was it really that common of an occurrence? All of these thoughts raced through his mind, leaving him no closer to answers and feeling exhausted.

At some point in his contemplation the kids had piled into the living room, surrounding him on the couch and bowling on the Wii. He was jolted out of his thoughts suddenly and looked around, momentarily confused. Sigrid shot him a sympathetic look and suggested “Why don’t you go take a nap, da? You look awful.” He blinked at her and then nodded, getting up off the couch and shuffling to his room where he collapsed face first on the unmade bed. 

He wanted so badly to nap and stop his racing thoughts, but he knew that that was not going to happen. Eventually he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dialed Tauriel’s number. She took so long to pick up that Bard thought she wasn’t going to answer, but finally he heard a “Hello?” 

“Hey.” He greeted, then asked “Do you have a second?” 

“Yeah.” Tauriel replied. “I just got back from the range with Kíli. What’s up?”

“I’m worried about Thranduil.” He confided with a sigh. “I don’t want to say anything because I don’t know much anyway, but I think he’s ill or something. I’m taking care of Legolas for a couple days, but I want to do something else for him. Any ideas?” He hoped that Tauriel would be able to offer advice, or at the very least console him.

Silence reached him from the other end for a second before Tauriel said “I’m not sure what to tell you without knowing what’s wrong… I know that when I’m not feeling well I love it when someone makes me my favorite dessert. I don’t know what he likes, but maybe that would help? Sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Bard’s mind lit up with possibilities, thinking that that was perfect. “No, that’s a great idea. I could go to the grocery store tomorrow...”he trailed, fiddling with his wedding ring as he often did when he was lost in thought. He hardly ever took it off. It was a subtle daily reminder of his wife; not painful enough to reopen the wound her death had caused, but just small enough for his thoughts to drift to happy times he had with her. “Thanks so much.” He thanked Tauriel.

“No problem.” She replied easily. “I hope he feels better soon.”

“Me too.” Bard exhaled. “I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’ll let you know how he likes it.” 

He could see in his mind Tauriel’s smile as she said “No problem. See ya.” and hung up.

He wracked his brain for anytime Thranduil may have mentioned desserts that he liked, but came up short. Deciding to ask Legolas, he stood up and returned to the living room where the kids were now playing tennis on the Wii. They flailed their arms wildly and had looks of concentration on their faces, making Bard smile. He waited until their game was done, the boys wearing matching looks of defeat while the girls whooped and high fived, obviously having won. 

“Legolas?” He asked, and the kids turned to face him.

“Yes sir?”

“What’s your dad’s favorite dessert?” 

Legolas looked at him funny for a split second before saying “Raspberry cheesecake. Why?”

When Bard heard that, he became even more excited. One of his wife’s best recipes was raspberry cheesecake - she had inherited the recipe from her mother. Bard wasn’t such a bad cook himself and had made the recipe before. That was all the affirmation he needed in knowing that this was the right thing to do.

“I want to make one for him, for when he comes home.” Bard explained, and all of the kids’ faces lit up at the suggestion. 

“Can we help?” Tilda exclaimed, jumping up and down. 

Bard laughed and said “Of course. I’ll need to go to the grocery store after work tomorrow and get the stuff, and then we can make it after we all get back on Tuesday. Sound good?” Each of the kids nodded vigorously, and it warmed Bard’s heart knowing that his children were as accepting of Thranduil and Legolas as they were.

“Want to watch us beat the boys again, da?” Tilda grinned, and Bard barked out a laugh at the sassiness of his youngest; she got it honestly.

“Sure, darling.” He laughed and made to sit down on the couch, thinking that these were the moments he lived for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These nerds weren't actually supposed to kiss until like three chapters from now, but apparently they weren't down with that... 
> 
> I promise answers will come soon! Thrandy can only keep his secret for so long ≖‿≖
> 
> Again, a big thank you to my lovely beta, @Shin_Min_Hee9!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Bard had most definitely _not_ been checking his phone religiously all day. It had most certainly _not_ gotten so frequent that his employees asked him if something was wrong. But Bard _did_ feel immensely relieved when Thranduil finally texted him, saying ‘I’m well. They want to keep me until tomorrow afternoon. Thanks so much for everything.’

The timing of his release could not have been more perfect. ‘Sounds good. You’re in our thoughts.’ was what he replied with. Bard made a mental note to go to the grocery store after work, and he finished the rest of the day in better spirits than he started it with. 

Upon closing up the shop, Bard wrapped his black trench coat tight around himself, flipped up his collar, and made his way a couple of blocks down to the nearest grocery store. He grabbed what he needed, paid, and carried the three bags of ingredients with him back to his Prius. The man was excited to surprise his children with hot chocolate, which he had decided to grab last minute while he was in the store. 

When he finally made it home it was 6:38. Bard rang the doorbell and Tilda answered with a huge grin on her face. 

“Da!” She exclaimed and hugged him tight, as if she hadn’t seen him just this morning.

“Hi, darling.” He greeted, hugging her back. Bard kissed Sigrid on the forehead and nodded to Bain and Legolas, all of whom were now following him into the kitchen.

“Did you get all the stuff?” Bain asked, and Bard nodded.

“Yep. And I got something else too…” He trailed, slowly pulling the hot chocolate box out of the plastic bag.

“Daaaa!” Tilda whined, clamoring closer in an attempt to find out what he was hiding.

“Alright, alright.” Bard laughed and pulled the box out, holding it up for all of the kids to see. Cheers erupted and Tilda squealed, giving her da another hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, da!” His youngest exclaimed. Hot chocolate was a favorite of all of the Bowmans’, and it was easy to tell by their reactions that they were all thrilled with this surprise.

“Legolas, I didn’t even ask,” Bard said, turning to the boy, “do you like hot chocolate?” Much to Bard’s relief, the boy nodded enthusiastically. “Alright then, we’ll all make some after dinner.” With that Bard ordered each of the children to go get cleaned up while he warmed up leftovers.

By the time they finished eating, everyone was full. Bard suggested that they all get showered and _then_ they could drink hot cocoa and play games. When everyone was finally ready, they all snuggled in the living room with steaming cups of hot chocolate and lazed around in their pajamas. They played a dice game and had many laughs, and Bard found himself wishing that Thranduil could be there to enjoy it with them.

****

The next day after work and school, the Bowmans and Legolas crowded in the kitchen to make Thranduil a worthy dessert. Bard delegated tasks, knowing that without his guidance this would not turn out well.

“Legolas, you can beat the butter and sugar. Bain, crush up the graham crackers, please. Tilda can crack the eggs and Sigrid can beat the cream cheese and sugar for the filling.”

Once they had all been assigned a job, everyone went their separate ways. Bard oversaw the work and helped where he was needed. Slowly but surely, the recipe began to come together. Bard took it upon himself to press the crust mixture into the pan lest the children mess it up, and he let the girls pour the batter into the circular pan once the crust had baked and cooled. He then placed the mixture carefully in the oven and set the timer for an hour.

Proud cheers erupted from the children, and Bard gave them each a high five. “We aren’t done yet.” He announced, gesturing to the enormous mess around them. The cheers promptly turned to groans, and Bard laughed. “Come on, it’ll only take a few minutes with all of us helping.” 

With that they all set to work bringing the kitchen back to some semblance of cleanliness, and when they finished the timer read forty two minutes. “Thanks for your help, guys.” Bard thanked. “Thranduil said he’d be here in about an hour and a half, so Legolas, make sure you’re ready by then.” Bard had told Thranduil that he would gladly drop the boy off at their apartment, but the man had insisted upon picking him up himself.

“Yes sir.” The boy replied obediently, and the children filed out of the small kitchen. Bard made his way to the living room and plopped himself down on the couch, falling asleep almost instantly after the busy day he had had.

****

Bard awoke to the sound of an incessant beeping coming from the kitchen, and he groggily glanced at the clock. It read 6:28, and for a moment Bard wondered what the noise could be at this time in the evening… Suddenly he shot up, remembering the cheesecake.

As he entered the kitchen, a burnt smell invaded his nostrils. _No no no no._ He ran the word over and over again in his mind as he hastily grabbed two potholders off of the countertop and opened up the oven door. A plume of smoke and heat rose from the appliance, making Bard cough and wave his hand around to dispel the cloud. In hindsight, he was surprised and more than a little grateful that the smoke alarm didn’t go off. 

The man winced as he pulled the cheesecake from the oven. It was lumpy and burnt in quite a few places. Splotches of black adorned the round dessert, looking like some sort of disease. He was quickly joined by the children who were no doubt drawn by the horrid smell that now lingered in the air.

“What happened?” Sigrid questioned, pinching her nose.

Bard sighed. “I fell asleep and when I woke up, it looked like this.” He said shamefully, placing the dish on the stovetop and shutting the oven door. “I’m sorry, guys.”

“It’s ok, da.” Tilda forgave, wrapping her small arms around her father’s waist. “Except now it’s really stinky in here.”

Bard laughed and replied with “I know. It’s not exactly the smell I had hoped Thranduil would arrive to.” Just as he said it, the doorbell rang. Everyone froze and glanced at each other, and Bard laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “Come on.” He ordered and made his way to the door. 

When he opened it, Bard was greeted to the sight of his boyfriend looking as small and tired as he had ever seen him. “Hey.” He breathed, and moved to hug the blond. He held him tight, and Thranduil exhaled shakily into his shoulder. “You okay?” Bard murmured, and he felt Thranduil nod against him.

When they finally pulled away, Thranduil’s eyes were red and puffy. Bard’s heart broke, but he moved out of the way so Legolas could greet his father. They too hugged, and then Legolas announced “My stuff is in Bain’s room. I’ll go get it.” 

“Why don’t you all go help him?” Bard suggested, and Sigrid gave him a knowing look. Each of the children left the two men alone in the doorway, and Bard invited Thranduil to come inside. “There’s no need to stand out in the cold.” He mumbled as Thranduil took a few steps into the apartment. 

Before he could apologize for the smell, Thranduil scrunched up his nose and asked “Did you burn something?”

Despite himself, Bard laughed. “Well… yeah. We all wanted to make you something, and Legolas said your favorite dessert is raspberry cheesecake. So we tried to make one but I kind of fell asleep and… yeah. Sorry…”

The look on Thranduil’s face was one of part amusement and part disbelief. The amusement was easy enough to understand, but Bard was a bit confused about the incredulity. “What?” Bard questioned. 

Thranduil paused a moment as if trying to figure out what to say before asking “You made a cheesecake for me?” The look on his face was so innocent and bewildered that Bard couldn’t keep himself from laughing.

“Yes, but it didn’t turn out very well.” Thranduil simply stared at him, and Bard thought he could see tears brimming in the man’s eyes. “Thran, are you okay?” Bard asked concernedly, and the man nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Hey…” Bard murmured and reached out to hold Thranduil once again. “Hey, it’s alright.” After a moment of stroking the man’s silky hair soothingly, he murmured “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Thranduil nodded and pulled away from Bard. He wiped his eyes with his palms and took a deep breath before speaking. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He began, and Bard waited patiently for him to continue. “I have seasonal affective disorder.” Thranduil exhaled in a rush. Bard reached out to grab the man’s soft hand in an attempt to give him some courage and Thranduil visibly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders dissipating a bit. “It basically means that in the winter months I get very depressed, and it’s hard to do anything. I can’t sufficiently take care of myself, let alone my son. I can’t run my business, I can’t provide for Legolas, some mornings I can’t even get out of bed.” As Thranduil spoke, his tone became more and more hysterical. Finally he paused and took a deep breath and ran the hand that Bard wasn’t clinging to through his hair. “I’m sorry.” Thranduil whispered finally, not looking Bard in the eyes. “It was unfair of me not to tell you when we first began our relationship. I knew it was only a matter of time before you found out, but I didn’t want you to see me as weak.” 

Bard’s heart felt as if it had been shattered into a million pieces upon hearing that last confession. “Thranduil, look at me.” Bard ordered sternly, and the man obeyed. The brunette locked his eyes with his companion’s and firmly said “I will _never_ see you as weak for having a mental illness.” Here Thranduil tensed and his eyes flitted away, but Bard murmured another “Look at me, darling.” and the man returned his gaze to Bard’s. “Would you call someone weak for having cancer?” He asked softly, and Thranduil shook his head no. “Right. So why would it be any different with seasonal affective disorder?” 

Thranduil shut his eyes and nodded as one single tear ran down his left cheek. Bard brushed it away with the pad of his thumb and murmured “Thank you for telling me. I will do whatever I can to help you get through this.”

Thranduil released a soft, pitiful sound and buried his face in Bard’s neck. “I know it’s hard on Legolas to see me like this.” He sputtered against Bard’s skin. “When I’m especially bad he has to take care of himself, and when I go to the hospital he has to just sit there with me all day.” The man paused and sniffled a bit. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that he has a place to go now.” They clung to each other, Bard rubbing circles on Thranduil’s back, until their children emerged from Bain’s room with Legolas’ bags. 

“Thank you again for having me.” Legolas thanked Bard once the two men had pulled apart, and the brunette smiled back at him. 

“Of course. Anytime you guys need something, you give me a call, alright?” Legolas nodded in response and Thranduil took the boy’s second bag from Bain. “Will I see you tomorrow?” Bard asked Thranduil, and the man nodded without hesitation. 

“Yes. I’ll need to go into work no matter how I’m feeling, so I’ll be sure to stop by.” He assured, his voice thick from crying.

“Then I guess I’ll see you at eleven o’clock.” Bard smiled, and Thranduil gave one last nod. Once again Bard was struck by how tired and distraught the man looked, and he knew he would do anything within his power to help him to feel better. Bard closed the little distance left between them by wrapping his arms around the blond once more, and Thranduil in turn wound his strong arms around Bard.

“ _Adaaa,_ ” Legolas groaned, “can we just go?”

“Yeah, da.” Tilda giggled. “Don’t be gross.”

Both men smiled and pulled apart, giving each other one last, lingering look that said _I’m here for you, no matter what._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, next chapter will be completely fluffy, alright? *goes to a corner and thinks about the way I have treated precious Thrandy*
> 
> Also I may have a Beauty and the Beast au in the works if any of you are interested... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Hopefully it'll be posted within the next couple days!
> 
> And as always, thank you to my fab beta @Shin_Min_Hee9


	5. Chapter 5

Bard heard his phone vibrate on the carpeted floor of his bedroom; how it got down there he did not know. Actually, he vaguely remembered dreaming about a dragon in the apartment which, in his dream, he had chucked a grenade at…

Sighing, the man sat up out of bed and padded across the room. He inspected his phone for any damage before reading the caller id. Thankfully no damage was done, and Bard felt himself smile upon seeing Thranduil’s grinning face on the screen.

“Hello?” He greeted, his voice sounding thick with sleep.

“Oh, no. Did I wake you?” Bard heard from the other end, and he let out a small laugh.

“Kinda. But it’s alright." 

“Augh, sorry!” Thranduil’s voice groaned from the other end. “I thought you said you were an early riser.”

“Not today, apparently.” Bard answered. “With the kids gone I’ve really got no reason to get up before ten.” The young Bowmans had each spent the night at friends’ houses, and Bard had gladly taken advantage of the opportunity to catch up on some much needed sleep. 

“Well aren’t you lucky?” His boyfriend teased, and Bard rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Was there something you needed?” He questioned, and Thranduil gave an “mmm” of assent.

“I realized that we’ve been together for two months and we have yet to go on a proper date.” The man told. Bard thought that he must be mistaken, but a quick search of his memory confirmed that Thranduil was correct in his revelation.

“Hmm, that is outrageous.” Bard muttered lazily as he turned to lie back down on his messy bed. “What do you propose we do about it?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of dinner and the most iconic structure in the city?” 

Bard hummed his agreement. “You know, I haven’t actually been there since we moved here.”

“I’ve literally been there twice and we’ve lived here for nine years.” Thranduil lamented. “So I think we should fix that.”

“I won’t try to dissuade you.” Bard smiled. “Do you want to meet somewhere or…?”

“No, this is a proper date; I’ve already made dinner reservations and everything.” The man argued. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

Bard thought that perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised that Thranduil was so on top of things. The man did have quite the penchant for finer things than simply walking into the cheapest restaurant around, as Bard would do. Still, a change of scenery would be nice, and the fact that he would get to share the evening with Thranduil had Bard grinning like a dork. 

“I’ll be ready.” He replied. 

“See you later.” Thranduil returned and hung up. Now to raid his closet…

****

Ultimately, he decided on a casual yet sophisticated option. Bard admired himself in the mirror after sliding the clothing on, feeling confident in his choice of wardrobe for the evening. A pair of fitted blue-jeans, brown combat boots, and a leather belt took care of the bottom half, while a plaid collared shirt lay underneath a grey striped sweater vest for the top. He slipped on a sleek black blazer to polish off the look.

Next the man turned his attention to his unruly hair. One quick glance out the window showed that it was an unusually sunny day, meaning that perhaps Bard’s brown and grey mane would be a bit less frizzy than usual, and a bit more stylish. He ran sweet smelling product through his hair and combed it out, all the while smoothing the flyaway strands down with his fingers. 

Once satisfied, Bard brushed his teeth one last time and spritzed on a bit of his favorite cologne. No sooner did he finish than he heard a _rap-rap-rap_ at the door. With one last glance in the mirror, the brunette made his way through the compact apartment and unlocked the door. He was nervous and he didn’t know why. The man could feel his heart racing and his palms beginning to sweat, and he willed his body to calm down; it was only Thranduil. The door swung towards Bard and he took in the blond’s commanding presence.

Maybe it was just Bard, but Thranduil seemed to demand everyone’s full attention whenever he walked into a room. Right now was no exception, and Bard found himself enjoying the way Thranduil’s black dress pants, sweater, and long trench coat accentuated his elongated, muscular features. The darkness of the man’s clothing contrasted starkly with the white blond hair that cascaded down his back. The sight made Bard’s heart flutter with desire.

He smiled and announced “Just let me grab my stuff.” The barista gathered his phone, wallet, and keys from the countertop and jotted down a note for his children that said ‘Out with Thranduil. Call if you need me.’ He then turned back to his boyfriend and locked the door behind them as they exited. “So,” he began once they were out in the breezy hallway, “where are we going?” 

“That is an excellent question.” Thranduil replied teasingly, and Bard shot him a fake glare. 

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He whined, and Thranduil shook his head. 

“You’ll see soon enough.” 

When they reached Thranduil’s tiny white Smart car, Bard couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, you drive one of _those_?” He asked incredulously. Thranduil simply frowned at him.

“What’s wrong with a Smart car?” He questioned, and Bard tried his best to sober up.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, it’s just that it’s kind of the last thing I expected you to drive.” Bard confessed with a grin.

“Well what would you expect me to drive?” Thranduil questioned, and Bard ruminated on that for a moment as he hopped in the passenger side door.

“An Infinity, maybe, or a Mustang or something.” Bard waved his hands around as he spoke once they were both in the tiny vehicle, effectively smacking the rearview mirror with the back of his palm. On the inside the car seemed much more spacious than he had originally thought, but it still wouldn’t be Bard’s first choice in a vehicle. Not that he was about to complain about being in close quarters with Thranduil Greenleaf.

“All nice vehicles,” Thranduil agreed, starting up the car, “but not particularly eco-friendly.”

Bard’s eyebrows shot up at that. “I didn’t know you were a tree hugger.”

Only after he said it did he realize how rude that particular way of phrasing it sounded. He silently berated himself for putting his foot in his mouth. Thranduil simply chuckled, however, and said “I prefer ‘earth advocate’, but yes, I suppose I am.”

A blush now colored Bard’s face and he apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. When did you get into ‘earth advocacy’?” He questioned, complete with air quotes, as they pulled out of the parking garage and onto the road. 

“Ever since I was a boy I’ve felt an intense connection to nature.” Thranduil explained. “I can’t really explain it, I just feel much more at home surrounded by natural Earth. It even affects my feelings, what with my, uh, seasonal affective disorder.” He said it shamefully and with fidgety hands, and Bard wanted desperately for him to know that an illness of any kind is nothing to be ashamed of. 

Of course Bard’s thoughts drifted involuntarily to his wife and he absentmindedly fiddled with his wedding ring. A terrible illness had taken her from him, from their children. When she died it was as if his entire world began to cave in around him and the only thing he could do was try his hardest to keep himself and his children from suffocating. Somehow they had managed to pull through. By clinging to each other in their hardest time, they got by. Bard knew that any kind of illness was not anyone’s fault, and no one should feel ashamed or guilty for being sick, whether the sickness is mental or physical.

When Bard broke from his thoughts, the silence in the car startled him. The only sound was that of the wind rushing by the windows as they drove down the street. He decided to break the quiet with “If you like nature so much, why do you live in the middle of Seattle?” 

Thranduil gave an ironic laugh at that and simply said “Work. I couldn’t find any jobs as a freelance artist, and it’s not as if there are many art museums in rural areas. I was already living in Seattle, and I like the culture of the city well enough, so here I am.” 

“Here you are.” Bard repeated quietly and shifted his gaze from Thranduil’s profile to the road in front of them.

Finally they pulled up in front of a very fancy restaurant that Bard had never dreamed he would ever step foot in. Lόrien was the name of the establishment, and it was owned by none other than Galadriel Goldenwood, the world renowned chef. Bard knew that reservations usually had to be made months in advance, and it certainly was not cheap.

“ _This_ is where we’re eating?” Bard asked incredulously as Thranduil parallel parked and unbuckled his seatbelt with a click. 

“Yes.” Thranduil replied amusedly. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not a problem.” Bard sputtered. “Just… How did you get a reservation?”

“I have connections.” Thranduil smiled vaguely and exited the car. Bard followed suit, his mind buzzing with this turn of events. They made their way up to the tainted glass door.

As they approached, a man dressed all in black opened it for them, saying “Welcome to Lόrien. Do you have a reservation?” 

“Thranduil Greenleaf.” The blond stated and Bard watched amazed as the worker’s eyes widened.

“My apologies for not recognizing you, Mr. Greenleaf. A private table has been reserved for you both. Please, follow me.”

Bard was speechless as he followed Thranduil who followed the restaurant worker, winding through the booths and tables lit romantically with candles. It was very dim in Lόrien, supposedly to ‘set the mood’, and Bard hoped beyond hope that he wouldn’t trip and make the biggest fool of himself.

Not for the first time in the last couple minutes, Bard wondered what on Earth he was doing here in Lόrien, on a date with Thranduil, at a _private table._ When they finally stopped, the man instructed them to sit at a table only big enough for two people. It was tucked away in a corner of the restaurant, a divider cutting them off from the rest of the tables in the place. One white candle and a modern looking wooden chandelier were the only sources of light, but Bard did not mind in the slightest. It made it all feel very intimate, and he thought Thranduil looked almost ethereal in the dim lighting.

Once they were seated, the worker handed them each a one page menu and announced “She will be with you shortly.” Who ‘she’ was, Bard did not know. The man turned his attention to the menu in his hands. One side listed an assortment of wines, the other various dishes that sounded fancier than anything he had ever eaten in his life. A quick glance at the prices below the descriptions was all it took for Bard to lose whatever semblance of calm he had been holding onto. 

“Thran, are you sure-“ He began, but was cut off by a hand squeezing his thigh. The sensation sent pleasant chills up his spine and it took Bard a moment to register what his boyfriend was saying.

“I’m sure. Don’t worry about the prices; it’s my treat. I want to show you how serious I am about this. About us.” Thranduil voiced. The honesty and love in his tone made Bard’s heart swell, and despite feeling a vague discomfort, he nodded. If Thranduil wanted to do this for him, he would let him. If the situation were reversed, the last thing he would want would be for Thranduil to feel guilty about Bard taking him on a date, no matter the price.

“What connections do you have, exactly?” Bard questioned in an attempt to change the subject.

Thranduil grinned at him mysteriously and simply said “You’ll see.”

Bard _hmph_ ed, but only moments later a gorgeous woman approached their little alcove. It took him a second, but Bard suddenly recognized her as Galadriel Goldenwood herself. She was even prettier in person than she was in any pictures Bard had seen of her, even despite the uniform she wore. A tight blonde bun sat atop her head and she wore a white chef’s tunic that fitted her just right. She was easily one of the prettiest women Bard had ever seen, save maybe his late wife, and he found himself rendered momentarily star struck. 

“Thranduil,” the woman greeted warmly, “it’s always nice to see you.” Thranduil smiled and stood to hug her. Bard sat, feeling awkward and wondering if it was rude of him to not stand as well.

Presently, Galadriel turned to him and gave him a warm smile that felt like it radiated down to his core. “And you must be Bard.” The chef greeted, and Bard felt himself blushing; why he did not know.

“Ah, yes.” He stammered. “It’s so nice to meet you. You’re very talented.”

Galadriel’s smile widened as she thanked him. “You’re too kind.” Bard could hardly believe how angelic the woman looked, how her voice sounded like the sweet notes of a song. She then turned towards Thranduil who was sitting once again and said “I won’t keep you two any longer, I simply wanted to say hello. I hope you will enjoy yourselves, and if you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask.” With that she disappeared just as quickly as she came, and Bard turned to Thranduil in near disbelief.

“What do you think?” Thranduil grinned, and Bard found himself at a loss for words to describe the way the woman had made him feel. 

“She was… wow.” was the only thing he said. 

Thranduil laughed and stated “She has that effect on everyone.”

“How exactly do you know her?” Bard questioned.

“We were in art school together. We met while partnered up for a live model reference project, and it was friendship at first sight, if you believe in such a thing.” The man told, and Bard shook his head.

“Mentioning that would have been nice.” Bard teased and watched as Thranduil shrugged his shoulders.

“And when exactly were you planning on telling me that you and Tauriel are best friends?” Thranduil questioned. Despite the man’s teasing tone Bard found himself flinching. It wasn’t as if it was anything to hide, he simply worried that Thranduil would find it awkward or odd that his boyfriend is best friends with one of his employees.

“Ah… there was never really an opportunity. And I didn’t really think it was all that important to be quite honest. It’s not typically something I think to tell the person I am dating.” 

Thranduil nodded and said “It is the same with Galadriel and I.” 

They were interrupted by their server, a blond man who introduced himself as Haldir. “Good evening, gentlemen. Can I get you started with something to drink?” He questioned. “Our special today is a sauvignon blanc, which is a white wine. It has a bit of a fruity taste; very nice, very refreshing.” 

“Just water for me, thank you. ‘Don’t drink and drive’ and all that.” Thranduil said, waving his hand through the air.

Haldir then turned to Bard. “Water for me as well.” He requested. If Thranduil wasn’t drinking, Bard didn’t want to either. He wasn’t a lightweight, but he certainly did not like feeling even slightly fuzzy if the person whose company he was in wasn’t either. And besides, Thranduil was the one paying and Bard did _not_ want to consider how much this ‘sauvignon blanc’ cost. 

“Alright then, I’ll have that right out for you.” Haldir nodded. “If you’ll look on the back of your menu you will see our dinner selection. Can I get an appetizer out for you gentlemen?” 

Thranduil glanced at Bard who raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘whatever you want’. The blond then turned to their waiter and requested something called a ‘peperoni caprese bite’. Haldir nodded and left the small room to place their order and Thranduil turned his attention back to Bard.

“The caprese bites are to die for, you’ll love them.” Thranduil assured and Bard smiled. 

“I’m sure I’ll love anything from this place. I can’t believe I just met Galadriel Goldenwood…”

Thranduil grinned and said “She’s not all that amazing. I’ve seen her wasted before, vomiting her guts out in my dorm room.” 

Bard scrunched up his nose at the image. “Yeah, can we not talk about that at dinner?”

“Sorry.” Thranduil said with a laugh, and Bard sent him a fake glare which the man kindly returned.

“So,” the blond said, returning his gaze to normal, “work’s been well?”

The shop had been extremely busy as of late, and Bard knew that he must appear very disheveled and distracted whenever Thranduil came in for his coffee and to visit. “Yeah, busy.” Bard stated simply. “It’s a good thing, I mean, of course I’m grateful that we’re doing well, but I must say I’ll be glad when things start to slow down a bit.” The busier the shop got, the less time he got to spend with his children. This did not make a happy father, or happy kids, though he knew that they all did their best not to let their disappointment show when they only got to see him for a couple hours out of the day. Quite honestly, he couldn’t ask for better kids.

Thranduil nodded and said “Believe me, I can understand that better than most.”

“How’s work been for you?” Bard questioned, knowing that while Thranduil loved his job, it could be very overwhelming for the man, understandably.

“Fine.” Thranduil sighed. “On Monday I’m supposed to meet with an artist by the name of Ori Fundinson so we can sign a contract to set up an exhibit for him. That will run for three months, which is pretty good timing since all of his work features knitted sculptures and canvases and the like. It’s perfect for winter.”

“Do you know how you’re going to set it up?” Bard asked. He knew that that was often Thranduil’s favorite part of his job since it allowed him creative license, but more often than not the artists themselves had ideas for the exhibit that Thranduil had to adhere to. It drove the man nuts.

“Mr. Fundinson says that he wants nothing to do with setting up the exhibit. He’s providing the artwork, I’m displaying it enticingly.” Thranduil said, and Bard could hear the excitement in his voice. It wasn’t every day he was allowed so much freedom to design.

“That’s great!” Bard smiled, and he meant it.

Haldir brought out their caprese bites and the incredible smell made Bard realize just how hungry he really was. He knew that he shouldn’t be surprised as it was a gourmet restaurant, but the tiny portion and the exponential price simply did not add up to him. Thranduil seemed to notice his discomfort and said “Just enjoy it. You’re most definitely worth it.” 

Bard found himself blushing and he unwrapped his silverware from his napkin, placing the black cloth in his lap. He stabbed the tiny ball of peperoni, cheese, tomato, and basil delicately and popped it in his mouth. An explosion of flavors lighted on his tongue and he had to actively keep himself from letting out a moan.

“That’s amazing.” He praised once he had swallowed, and Thranduil grinned.

“I knew you’d like them.”

There were only four total, so two for each man. Bard found himself wishing for five more, but he figured the entrée would be equally as amazing.

He was right. Haldir had shown up a few minutes after they finished their appetizer and taken their orders for their entrées. Thranduil ordered a ‘stacked beet, avocado, and grapefruit salad’ which the brunette pretended didn’t sound absolutely repulsive, and Bard ordered a ‘seared scallop penne’. By the time their food arrived, Bard was starving. Thranduil, too, seemed eager to get his meal.

An incredible smell assaulted Bard’s nose as his plate of food was placed in front of him. It looked like a piece of artwork in and of itself, and once Haldir refilled their waters and left them to their meal he couldn’t help but take out his phone and snap a picture for his kids to see. They weren’t going to believe that he not only got to eat at Lόrien, but got to meet Galadriel Goldenwood.

“We should have asked Haldir to take a picture of us.” Thranduil noted.

“We could take a selfie.” Bard suggested with a smile, and Thranduil moved his chair towards Bard’s so that they’d both fit in the frame. They first took a nice one, but Bard quickly snapped another while he stuck out his tongue and also managed to capture Thranduil with a derp face. “That’s one for the wall!” Bard laughed, and Thranduil rolled his eyes and scooted his chair back to the other side of the table. 

“Alright, let’s eat, shall we?” The blond announced as he picked up his fork with slender fingers, and Bard followed suit. He stabbed the thick noodles with his fork and brought the steaming bite towards his mouth. Immediately his taste buds erupted into a heavenly palatableness that the mixture of garlic, sweet scallops, basil, butter, and whatever else was used, created. He wasn’t sure he had ever tasted anything so layered and thought out and utterly _delicious_ in his entire life. One quick glance at Thranduil was all it took to know that the blond was experiencing a similar bliss.

Any conversation between the couple all but ceased as they dug in, and within minutes their plates were bare; the only indicator that there was ever any food there at all was the tracks of white sauce on Bard’s plate and purple tracks on Thranduil’s. When Haldir finally returned with the bill, it took everything Bard had not to reach across and pay for his own food. He knew that it could not possibly be cheap, and the guilt that Thranduil had spent so much on him bothered the barista.

“Are you sure I can’t pay for anything?” Bard asked, but Thranduil immediately shook his head.

“Nope. I’m happy to do this for you.”

Bard sighed, then announced “Fine, but I’m going to pay for the Space Needle.” Thranduil shot him a look, but Bard did not back down and finally the blond gave in.

“Alright, I suppose that’s fair.” He relented and placed a handful of bills into the plastic check envelope. “Are we all set?” He questioned with a bright smile, and Bard nodded. They stood in unison and made their way through the tables that littered the dim restaurant. 

When they approached the door, the same worker as before wished them a good evening and thanked them for coming. “Please have someone let Galadriel know that we said goodbye and thank you.” Thranduil requested, and the man nodded as he pushed open the door.

“Absolutely, sir. You two have a nice night.” Bard bobbed his head goodbye and they made their way out into the cold night air. 

“Ugh,” Bard groaned, “it’s freezing.” He rubbed his hands together and Thranduil moved his hand to grab Bard’s right.

“I’ve got an extra pair of gloves in the car if you want to use them.” Thranduil told, and Bard smiled at him teasingly.

“Only you would hoard gloves in your car.” He laughed, and Thranduil pushed his shoulder with his own playfully.

“Fine then, you can have freezing hands up on the top of the Space Needle.” In protest, Bard placed his ice cold free hand on the back of Thranduil’s neck, making the man scrunch up his shoulders and elicit a squeal that sounded more girlish than Tilda’s.

Bard let out a cackle of laughter and the blond retaliated by sliding his own chilled fingers down the back of Bard’s shirt, making his warm skin tingle unpleasantly with the cold. By now they were both laughing and generally making fools of themselves, though they did not care. When they reached Thranduil’s Smart Car, the blond made a point to open the passenger side for Bard and closed it behind him, which made the man smile. No one had ever done that for him before, and he found that he quite liked it.

Once both men were seated and buckled, they were off once again. It took them only a few minutes to get to a large parking garage just down the street from the Space Needle, which Bard insisted he pay for. 

“No,” Thranduil protested, “you’re paying for our Space Needle tickets.” 

“And you paid for dinner _and_ gas.” Bard returned. “The least I can do is pay ten dollars for parking.” Thranduil sighed in defeat and Bard dug his wallet out of his pocket and handed the blond a wrinkled ten dollar bill, which he begrudgingly gave to the guard at the gate. The dark skinned woman waved them through, and they found a parking spot near the back of the garage, but at least it was on the first level.

They stepped out of the compact car and into the cold night air once again, and Thranduil threw a pair of black leather gloves lined with fleece at Bard. “Trust me, you’ll want those.” He said, and the barista slipped them on without protest. As the pair made their way through the parking garage and down the block towards the iconic structure of the Space Needle, Bard reached out to grab Thranduil’s hand. He didn’t know why the gesture sent a part nervous, part giddy feeling rushing in the pit of his stomach seeing as they had already made out on multiple occasions, but there it was. When Thranduil gave his hand a light squeeze, the feeling increased tenfold.

Finally they arrived to the entrance of the structure and they got in the (surprisingly short) line for tickets. Bard paid, much to Thranduil’s chagrin, and they made their way inside, not bothering to look around the gift shop before taking the elevator up to the top of the building. Bard’s ears popped as they rose higher and higher in the lift, and he felt Thranduil shift uncomfortably against him. Bard assumed the man’s discomfort had to do with the people pressing against them in the confined space, and he wrapped his arm around the blond’s waist in an attempt to comfort him.

As the elevator lurched to a stop and the crowd filed out into the biting air, Bard led Thranduil with a hand on his lower back. Once out into the open air, Bard let out a puff of air and scrunched up his shoulders, as if that would help fend off the biting chill. The pair made their way towards the railing along the curved edge of the Space Needle, and below them the great city of Seattle seemed to stretch on and on and on.

“Wow.” Bard breathed, wonderment in his eyes. The lights appeared to him as pixie dust, like in that Disney movie Tilda liked so much. Above them, he could see the faintest hint of stars despite the bright city lights, a rare occurrence as it was usually cloudy in the Evergreen State.

Bard glanced beside him to see Thranduil taking in the beauty of the sight before them, his lips slightly parted in a look of awe that made Bard want to snog him right then and there. While the sight below them was absolutely stunning, Bard thought that Thranduil’s intense beauty still won out. Suddenly Thranduil turned to the brunette with a face illuminated by the glow of the lights above and below them, and with an exhale he whined “Holy crap, it’s freezing.”

Bard didn’t even try to stop the grin that lighted on his face, and he turned to his boyfriend, no doubt with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Hmm,” he teased as he trailed his hands down the man’s arms, which felt muscular even through his coat and sweater, “I think I know a way to fix that.” A smirk grew on Thranduil’s face and Bard closed the gap between them, Thranduil’s lips warm and soft against his own; a stark contrast from the cold air around them. He felt the blond’s strong hands weave through his hair, and Bard found himself glad that he had decided to wear it down. The barista trailed his own hands to Thranduil’s front and clung to the sides of his coat. Pleasant warmth traveled through Bard and ignited in his bones like electricity and a giddy sensation fluttered in his stomach.

Thranduil bit down ever so teasingly on Bard’s bottom lip and he had to fight to keep from letting out a moan. In response, he licked out with his tongue and Thranduil opened his mouth accordingly. Bard ran his tongue along Thranduil’s perfectly straight teeth and he felt like a teenager again; consumed by a reckless passion and making out in the middle of a public place without a care for anyone around them. When they finally pulled apart, breathless and panting, Bard felt Thranduil pulling him towards him and he complied easily, wrapping his arms around the man once again. He rested his hands on the curve of Thranduil’s back, and he felt the blond rubbing soft circles into his lower back. The two gazed out at the expansive city below them, ablaze with light and looking for all the world like a galaxy of their very own that they could get lost in for all eternity.

“Bard?” The brunette heard his name murmured lovingly from the lips that he had just had the pleasure of tasting.

“Hm?”

“You’re my ocean,” he told, lips pressed into Bard’s mess of brown hair, “and I’m drowning." 

 _Yeah,_ Bard thought, _that about sums it up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys! (And sorry it took so long for me to update) As always, lots of thanks to @Shin_Min_Hee9, my fabulous beta ^_^ Let me know what you think! ◕‿◕


	6. Chapter 6

Bard didn’t know quite when he realized that he was falling, but he figured it didn’t matter. What _did_ matter was the way Thranduil’s presence made him feel when they sat side by side at the corner window seat of the shop, their touches merely brushes of alabaster skin against skin that was slightly tanner, sending teasing shocks of pleasure up Bard’s spine and directing his thoughts to his boyfriend’s pink lips that were currently tending to a vanilla latte that the brunet had made for him just minutes ago. Those were Bard’s favorite days: the ones where the hours could be measured in how many flirtatious texts the two men sent back and forth. But as was the way of things, there were plenty of days that were far less enjoyable.

Whenever Thranduil didn’t show up to the shop at the usual time, Bard would pull his phone out of his pocket and shoot a quick text to the man that simply said ‘Can I call you?’. Typically the blond’s answer was a curt ‘yes’, and Bard would make his way to the backroom and the pair would talk for a few minutes about nothing in particular; Bard’s goal was simply to help his boyfriend stay afloat. 

However there were also those days when Thranduil replied with ‘no’, and Bard’s heart would sink. Diligently the barista would call the school that their children attended and request that Legolas be told to go home with Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda. He would drop the boy off at the Greenleafs’ apartment after dinner and homework were finished like he was one of Bard’s own kids. Thranduil always made a point to thank him profusely once he was feeling better, but they both knew that there was really no need. Bard would do anything to help Thranduil, and vice versa. 

Because of this routine, Bard was surprised to see his phone light up with Thranduil’s face on the screen one morning when the blond should have been hard at work on Ori Fundinson’s upcoming exhibit. He indicated to one of his employees that he was taking a call in the backroom, and the young man nodded his understanding. Shutting the wooden door behind him, Bard slid his finger across the screen of his iPhone and offered a “Hello?” to the emptiness of the cluttered room he now stood in. 

“Bard?” He heard a voice that was decidedly _not_ Thranduil’s question in a worried tone.

“Legolas?” The brunet returned, his heartbeat beginning to speed up with anxiety. Something was wrong with Thranduil, he knew it. “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you at school?”

“My dad…” Legolas replied, confirming Bard’s fears. “I don’t know what’s wrong. He hasn’t gotten up in two days except to use the bathroom, and he won’t go to the hospital. I’m worried about him.” As the boy spoke, his voice grew increasingly hysterical until it sounded like he was going to seriously start panicking.

Keeping his voice steady proved to be more of a challenge for Bard than it probably should have been as he attempted to soothe the boy by saying “Calm down, Legolas, It’ll be ok. I’m coming over and I’m taking you to our place. The kids will be home until later, but you can play with their electronics or anything else until they get there. After I drop you off I’m going to see about your dad, alright?” It was the best plan the man could come up with on such short notice.

A shaky exhale of “Yes sir.” Sounded from the other end of line, and Bard caught himself nodding to no one in particular.

“Good. I’ll see you in a bit, then.” He told, then hung up.

The man took a moment to take a deep, calming breath as worried thoughts raced through his mind before opening the wooden door, shedding his apron, and announcing to his employees that he was taking an emergency leave. They each shot him matching looks of concern, but Bard waved them off saying that everything would be alright, he just had to make sure someone was ok. 

It was ridiculously cold in Seattle in January, and Bard was reminded of this fact as he left the warmth of his coffee shop and ran into the wall of cold that felt like a ton of bricks to the face. He couldn’t wait for spring, not only for the warm weather, but also for peace of mind for Thranduil. If he could make winter disappear forever for the man, he would, but unfortunately that seemed to be beyond his capabilities.

So instead Bard slid into his Prius, started the car, and made the familiar drive to the Greenleafs’ apartment. As he drove, the brunet became increasingly worried. Legolas was a pretty laid back kid; for him to get so worked up, Thranduil must be in bad shape. 

When he parked the car on the street and stepped into the warm lobby of Thranduil and Legolas’ apartment complex and shed his coat, Bard began to climb the staircase that probably cost more than his entire apartment complex combined. Images of a distraught Thranduil, face swollen and red from crying, hair looking like a rat’s nest, and a glassy look in his bright blue eyes tore through Bard’s thoughts, and he had to physically shake his head to loosen them from the tangles of his mind. 

Finally he arrived at door 323 and knocked four times, as he always did. Before he could even begin to think about what he would say to either Thranduil or Legolas, the door swung open to reveal the younger of the two peering up with tired eyes – too tired, Bard thought, for one so young.

The pair said nothing in greeting. They did not need to, for they conveyed all the necessary emotions in one glance at each other, the most prominent of which was worry. As Bard stepped into the apartment he turned to Legolas and asked “Where’s your dad?” in a low voice.

“In his bedroom.” The boy replied, and Bard made his way through the lavish apartment to the room he knew to be his boyfriend’s bedroom. 

The door was shut, so the brunet rapped on it lightly with his knuckles. No answer came, and when Bard shot a questioning look to Legolas as if to see if it would be okay just to barge in, the boy nodded.

Slowly Bard opened the white wooden door, peeking his head in the room to see a nest of blond hair and a lump of a man underneath wrinkled white covers. The shades on the window were shut tight, only letting in little bands of light that streaked across the dark floor, walls, and bed like tendrils reaching to grasp Thranduil and squeeze happiness back into him. 

“Thranduil?” Bard questioned cautiously. There was no response. 

“Thran?” He tried again, and this time he heard a faint groan and the slightest shuffle of the sheets.

With one glance at Legolas, who nodded his head in encouragement, the brunet made his way into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, eliciting a creak and making Thranduil bury his face further into the pillow his hair was splayed across. Bard gestured for Legolas to do the same, and the boy did so almost soundlessly. The dip of the mattress as he sat down made Bard feel, oddly enough, paternal, as if the boy was his own son. A sudden need to protect him prompted the man to wrap an arm comfortingly around him, and Legolas leaned instantly into the touch, resting his head on Bard’s chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

With his other arm, Bard reached out to lay his palm tentatively on his boyfriend’s upper back. He felt the blond tense under the touch, and he began to rub soft circles through the sheet that obscured the man’s bare back from view. Ever so slowly Thranduil relaxed, until finally Bard ceased the soothing motion in favor of attempting to talk to his love and find out just what was wrong.

“Come on Thran, talk to me.” He tried again, and this time there was only the slightest bit of hesitation before the bed shook and creaked with the movement of Thranduil turning onto his back to face his lover and his son.

Bard had to fight back a gasp when Thranduil finally faced them; he had never seen his boyfriend so disheveled and distraught. His hair looked even worse from the front, if that was even possible, and his entire face was swollen and red. The crystal blue of his eyes contrasted terribly with red that rimmed them, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. 

Bard took a deep breath before saying “Legolas tells me you haven’t gotten up in a couple days and that you won’t go to the hospital.” 

The look of emptiness and defeat that passed over Thranduil as he rubbed his hands exhaustedly over his face was enough to break Bard’s heart. Both he and Legolas waited patiently for the blond to compose himself enough to reply. After what felt like a small eternity, he did, though not without obvious struggle. 

“I’m not… I can’t…” he struggled with his words before exhaling raggedly and covering his face with his palms. Bard could tell by the way his shoulders shook that this was not something Legolas needed to witness.

“Darling, why don’t you go load your stuff up in my car? I’m parked right outside.” Bard requested, and quite frankly Legolas seemed relieved to not be subjected to watching his father cry. With a curt nod he hopped off the bed and shut the door gently behind him, leaving the two men alone with only the tendrils of light to break the darkness of the room.

As soon as Legolas left, Bard moved forward and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Thranduil curled into the embrace and buried his face in the plaid fleece shirt that Bard wore. The barista ran his fingers through the man’s silky hair and they sat like that for a few moments, listening to one another’s breathing. It felt incredibly intimate, but not pleasantly so. To Bard, it was as if Thranduil was the most fragile of items, and that with the slightest bit of pressure in the wrong spot he would break into a thousand shimmering pieces. 

Finally Bard once again worked up the courage to confront Thranduil about what was wrong, asking “Why haven’t you gone to the hospital, love? This is dangerous; you need to get proper treatment.”

After about a minute passed, Bard did not think the blond was going to answer. The man finally took a deep breath, though, and spoke with obvious articulatory struggle. “By going to the hospital it’s like… like I’m admitting defeat.” He exhaled raggedly. “I’m so sick and tired of failing, Bard. No matter what I do, or how good I’ve been doing, I inevitably wind up falling into this damn depression and I can’t even freaking function like a normal human being. And time after time after time I have to admit myself to the hospital and acknowledge not only to myself, but to Legolas, and you, and my employees, that I’m insane.

‘I scare myself, Bard. Every day I’m left wondering when the next depression will hit and whether Legolas will be taken care of and what I’ll reduce myself to next. Because honestly, when I’m feeling like this, it’s like I have no control. Like I’m someone else who is watching me make these choices, and of course I have my opinion, but what good is my opinion when the guy making the decisions won’t even listen?

‘I didn’t go to the hospital because I felt like a failure. And even though I knew I should have gone, there was no way I could have convinced myself after I’d made up my mind.”

By the end of his explanation, Thranduil had fresh tears streaking down his splotchy face and his voice was thick with frustration. Quite honestly Bard had not been expecting such a long or honest answer as that, and he didn’t know what to say. “Thran…” He breathed. “Thranduil, look at me.” The blond lifted his weary face once more to look Bard in the eye, and the pain and exhaustion in them made the barista’s stomach lurch.

“You are a lot of things,” he told, “but insane isn’t one of them.” Thranduil made to shake his head in refute but Bard continued. “I wouldn’t date someone who was insane, or at least not any more insane than I am. So you’re good, I promise.” Thranduil sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and Bard stroked his hair out of his sticky face like he was accustomed to doing for his children when they were upset. 

They sat like that for another couple minutes when finally Bard kissed the top of Thranduil’s head and said “Here’s what we’re going to do: I’m going to take Legolas to my place and he can hang out with the kiddos, then I’m going to come back here and we’re going to go to the hospital.”

“Please don’t take me to the hospital, Bard, please.” Thranduil begged. “What are they going to do, tell me I’m depressed? I really can’t handle being there right now.”

“They’re going to tell you you’re depressed and then give you medicine and keep an eye on you.” Bard replied, becoming increasingly frustrated with his boyfriend. Was he really going to be this stubborn?

“I don’t need to be watched twenty-four-seven.” Thranduil challenged.

“You just admitted that you scare yourself and have no control over your actions when you feel like this.” The brunet retorted exasperatedly. Thranduil sighed desperately and buried his face in his hands. Bard knew that he would not be able to drag the blond to the hospital unless he cooperated – he was simply too large. And at this rate he would never convince him to go along with it.

“Fine.” Bard sighed frustratedly. “Fine, we won’t go to the hospital. But I’m not letting you sit alone in your room. Pack a bag, ok? I’m going to take Legolas back to my place and then I’ll come back here and we’ll treat ourselves. Got it?”

A look of utter confusion fell on Thranduil’s face at that. “Do you not see me?” He snapped, gesturing to himself. “The last thing I deserve is to ‘treat myself’.”

Bard didn’t want to hear it. “I don’t care if you think you deserve it or not,” he replied sternly, but not rudely, “that’s what we’re going to do. I’ll see you in about an hour, alright?” Thranduil nodded, still looking confused, but now he also seemed curious, which Bard was glad for. Anything to distract him from the pain he was feeling. 

With that Bard collected Legolas and the pair made their way back to the Bowmans’ apartment. The man desperately wanted Thranduil to feel better, and he would do anything within his power to make that hope a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys! Sorry this chapter is so much shorter than all the others, but I thought it was a good a place as any to stop before the next chapter. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think! ◕‿◕


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